


What doesn’t kill you gives you friends.

by Perspicacia



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Gen, JediFest, Rogue Robin, Round 1, roguerobin015
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-28 01:49:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10064123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Perspicacia/pseuds/Perspicacia
Summary: Even years later, Obi-Wan couldn’t remember exactly what happened. The days before were a fuzzy blur, the days after were coloured by so much exhaustion big pieces were missing and the days of his illness… Since he didn’t think dancing Tusken had enacted bits of Alderaan’s greatest drama with a Bantha playing the part of Princess Norrami, he probably had hallucinated a little.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For the phase one of jedifest roguerobin on tumblr, I wrote a little thing and the very nice aeremaee came to my help with beta because english grammar is still an ongoing mystery for me!

For years, Darksiders had tried to kill Obi-Wan Kenobi. Darksiders, and Separatists, too. Bounty hunters. Droids. Cyborgs. Evil overlords on strange worlds. Fallen Jedi. Sith Lords. Spies. Sith Apprentices. Mandalorians. Corrupt Senators. Corrupt Judicials. His former Padawan. His Master’s former Padawan. Brainwashed clones. Enemy soldiers, ally soldiers.

Once, an old lady with a roasting jack, too.

The list could go on a long time, so let’s just say a lot of people tried to kill Jedi Padawan/Knight/Master Kenobi, and all of them failed, even if a few tries were almost successful.

And where all of those failed, a protozoan parasite from the Outer Rim almost won the competition gloriously.

Even years later, Obi-Wan couldn’t remember exactly what happened. The days before were a fuzzy blur, the days after were coloured by so much exhaustion big pieces were missing and the days of his illness… Since he didn’t think dancing Tusken had enacted bits of Alderaan’s greatest drama with a Bantha playing the part of Princess Norrami, he probably had hallucinated a little.

He remembered Qui-Gon’s voice too and even if it was probably a hallucination as well, he kept that fact in his heart, close to his soul, and hoped.

No, the first memory he was sure of, was this one: waking up, feeling as weak as a new-born bantha calf, in a very bare room. A male voice, a touch on his forehead, a cold wet piece of cloth.

“Sleep. You’re gonna live. Sleep, I’m here.”

The next moment is more precise. Owen Lars, helping him with a glass of lukewarm water. Obi-Wan was pretty sure he made an inquisitive noise.

“Later. Sleep.”

And then, a dawn. Owen, sleeping on a chair just beside the bed where Obi-Wan was tied to with large pieces of torn sheets, and someone had taken some sort of nail gun to the chair to anchor it to the floor. What had happened? In his last memories, he had been home in his hermitage, as much at home as he could be, far away from the Temple, with not even the reassuring memories because in his mind, in his dreams, his home was burning, full of corpses. Full of his dead family.

Yes, the mystery of the nailed chair was an easier path for his thoughts. Why? What had the poor chair done? Had it tried to escape?

“It was floating.” Owen’s eyes were open and had followed the direction of Obi-Wan’s.

“You were, too. I put everything delicate in the farthest room but I couldn’t exactly nail you to the bed. Water?”

Obi-Wan said yes, with only a nod. His thoughts were murky, slow.

“What happened?”

“You were ill. The Junkland fever. It’s harder when you catch it the first time as an adult.”

“Younglings are vaccinated. I mean, I was vaccinated as a child.”

“Yes, probably with the more common illness. Not against a Tatooine-only parasite. And the strain is mutating all the time. I’ve had it four times. Your next time will be easier.”

Something was on Obi-Wan’s mind; he was pretty sure he was supposed to say something sarcastic there, but he was asleep before finding the words and woke up later, the night already there, to Owen’s hands pushing the sheets off him. That was the first time the Jedi turned hermit understood that he was naked.

“Eh, eh, eh!”

“Oh, perfect, you’re awake. I’ve just made broth.”

“What exactly are you doing?”

“You understand I’ve been giving you sponge baths all week?”

“….”

“A full body blusher, eh?”

“Owen Lars!!”

Little by little, Obi-Wan pieced the story back together. A message to the Lars family, something without sense, begging Beru and Owen to take Luke and run, because a danger was coming.

“I would have probably believed you and tried to take them off Tatooine, if you didn’t sound crazier than your norm in the message. Paranoia is a big clue for that fever.”

“Where are Luke and Beru?”

“At her sister’s home, in town. She has a cantina. We didn’t want Luke to catch it, if you were suffering from some sort of exotic out of planet thing, and not from the fever. She wanted to find you a healer but…”

“Levitating objects and floating patient.”

“Exactly.”

A silence. Robust hands helping him up, against two pillows. He could feel the callosities of a manual worker, the strength, but they were very careful with him, giving a feeling of safety he didn’t remember having since he left the Creche.

“Jedi are not supposed to be ill. I don’t understand how I let myself be surprised.”

“Well, a few years of war and then all what happened, and living from moss and other stupid ideas you have… Suppose your body and your esoteric power required a rest.”

Obi-wan was so weak that he needed help to eat but in the silence of the bare room, there was no uncomfortable moment. After the sponge baths, helping him to eat was a little thing. Also, he was famished and it was good, perhaps a little bland, but hot and filling.

He let himself look at the man, the man refusing him access to Luke but coming to his help and taking care of him. A lot of hours were missing, lost to fever and hallucinations, but he remembered strong arms, reassuring words, and a steady presence. The Force was there, once again accessible, already working to clear his body from the last traces of the parasite and he felt something shift between them, the future a little lighter.

“Beru will be there tonight, she will be happy to see you getting better.”

“Shouldn’t I go before? Luke…”

“For that, you would need to be able to take more than a few steps and to nurse you back to health just to send you back to the Wastes would be stupid. Carrying you to my speeder was probably easier than it should have been, and you lost weight this week. Try to sleep and I will have a second serving of that ready when you wake up.”

Owen left the room and Obi-wan let sleep conquer him. In his ears, the Force was singing.

 

 

 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [What Doesn't Kill You Gives You Friends](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10453848) by [bethagain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bethagain/pseuds/bethagain)




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